Library of The Raven
by Scioneeris
Summary: AU. Raven is head librarian of an ancient store of knowledge. Robin is a lone, wandering knight. When he comes to her for help in defeating the mystical villain Slade, will she help him?
1. Chapter 1 : Enter The Knight

**A/N: This is just a random idea I had for an AU with Raven and Robin. I've been spending my time in the library studying for the upcoming finals and I guess this just sprouted out of that. The set up is an AU, obviously, in which Raven is the head librarian of a strange, ancient library and Robin is a lone, wandering knight seeking her help in a quest to defeat the mystical villain known as Slade. It will be updated based on how much spare time I can actually spare from the rest of my life and projects. (and yes, it will be RobxRae). The other titans will show up eventually. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Um...**

**Raven: Azarath-**

**Me: I don't own any Teen Titans anything. Except this plot. This plot is mine. All mine. :P **

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><p>In the darkened, dusty corridors, Raven calmly glided down the shadowy walkways, her face buried in a book, her gold-rimmed glasses perched atop her pale nose. The adventures within the pages were more than interesting and it showed in the sudden spell of vigor that surrounded her.<p>

For everywhere that the purple-haired girl set foot, the dust and the gloom was swept away to a tidy, clean openness of a few shades brighter.

It was the daily walk. The usual cleaning ritual, a way for her to keep stock of the books and to be sure that everything was in a proper working order.

Not that there were actual patrons in the Library of the Ravens, but sometimes it didn't hurt to check. Raven found the establishment to be more than just her namesake. It was a wonderful treasure trove of all the most brilliant writings history had dared to produce. All kinds of stories and histories from everywhere.

It was more than just a privilege to be the head librarian, it was more than a mere honor. Raven snapped the book shut with a satisfactory smile. There was a lingering touch of pleasure on her thin, white face as she turned just enough to see over her shoulder and take into accordance the newly cleaned walkway. The book had been good and section E-5 of the library had gotten a more detailed cleaning than the rest of it.

Trotting quickly down the remaining shelves for that floor, Raven tucked the book under her arm. She knew just the one she wanted to read next. Instead of seeing the duty as a chore, she was more than fascinated by the sheer power of the knowledge that lay within the written tomes she guarded. It was said that every head librarian of the Raven Library would have to read every single work within its wall both past and present.

Raven saw it as a delicious challenge that grew more enjoyable every day. She was learning all sorts of things from the weathered, wrinkled pages and there was little to naught that she desired of the outside world. The Library was her home, her life and that was more than enough.

The outside world and all of its hassles were exactly that—hassles. Once a month, on the middle day of the third week, she would open the precious, golden doors for a mere ten hours. Those that were found worthy by the golden scales of judgment were admitted into the ancient halls and Raven would spend her day watching them all from the central pillar that held the elevator.

She was careful when answering questions and careful when ushering them out. Each day she recalled always seemed to be more difficult than the last and there were more frivolous questions than serious ones. Some days, Raven wondered if the scales were tired of judging, but it was not in her place to say so, so she never complained.

It was easier to simply pretend that there was nothing to worry about except for the questions asked of her. The more she thought of it though, the more the darkened empath was glad, for the lack of serious questions meant that she did not have to exert herself or her powers in utilizing the more serious aspects of her precious home.

The Library of the Raven was more legend than the folklore had let on and Raven was content for it to stay that way. She was always relieved at the end of the day to find that there were none who knew of its secrets and none that truly believed what they had heard anyway.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" The time-honored words flowed easily from her lips and she blurred down to the next floors, zipping between the bookshelves with a speed uncharted. It was easily and it was painless. She finished the weekly cleaning ritual and took stock of the collected dirt when she was finished.

A sneeze punctuated the silence and Raven dipped her head in apology to the old library. She liked the silence. It meant that she could hear herself think. Taking the book from under her arm, she spun a portal at her fingertips to 'port over to the correct shelf. Replacing it where it belonged, she skipped across to the other aisle and snatched up the first volume, standing on tip-toe to reach it.

Cracking the book open, she pressed her face to the pages and breathed along the spine. The familiar musty scent swirled around her, bringing a pleased sound from the back of her throat. Tucking it under her arm, the little head librarian scurried to the center of the floor and then squinted up at the very ceiling of the domed library. Granted, it was more of a giant stone castle with an even larger tower protruding from its center, but it was still home to her.

And at that moment, home was the lovely turret view from the top parapet where Raven promptly transported herself. There, she could look out the window at the people scurrying around and when she tired of watching the tiny, colorful specks, she'd take out her book and find a piece of fruit to munch on while she read, sitting on the broad windowsill.

At least, that's what she intended to do.

Raven couldn't quite piece it together later, when she tried to recall everything that led up to that Event. It was simply too much. She only knew that she was calculating the necessary points for her transportation portal and jut as she was about to focus her center, the wall between level 3, shelves G-through-H, exploded.

Her powers flared deeply and she felt a distinct pang in her chest before she 'ported directly over to the rubble. Climbing out of the thick brown stone, surrounded by smoldering books, was the strangest and youngest knight she could ever recall.

He wore no helmet, his armor was a strange mixture of black and green, with a red breastplate and foreign emblem, a rich, silken cape of gold spilled from the fasteners at his shoulders and a head full of spikey black hair was covered in debris. He tried to stand and failed miserably—twice.

Raven swallowed both times before she finally found her voice. "I hope you know the penalty for that."

The spikey head jerked around and a pair of bright, quivering blue eyes fixed straight on her as his face—bruised and dust-covered—broke into a wide grin. "Terribly sorry, Miss, but I'm afraid I don't."

It was at that precise moment, Raven wondered if she was dreaming.

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><p><strong>~*~*~*~Please review and Thank you for reading!~*~*~*<strong>


	2. Chapter 2 : Excitement

**A/N: Thank you all for the positive feedback on the first chapter as well as the faves and messages. I dearly hope the second one is up to par with your expectations. ^_^ I had some fun writing "library Raven" and "Knight Robin". There is also a bit more dialogue in this chapter than the second one. Enjoy!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: Well, it's kinda like-  
><strong>

**Raven: Azarath-Met-**

**Me: I don't own any Teen Titans anything. Except this plot. This plot is mine. All mine. :P **

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><p>She wasn't dreaming, Raven decided, moments later as she took in the situation in all its wonderfulness. This was going to be a headache.<p>

The strange knight began to dust himself off with a wary glance cast back at the giant hole torn into the library wall. His shoulders hunched forward as if he'd been expecting something and his eyes narrowed when he didn't seem to find it. Raven looked from him, to the mess and then to the hole herself. Lavender eyes narrowed as she caught sight of a faint shadow hovering just outside at the end of the protective fencing around the library estate.

That wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. It didn't belong there.

Her lips pursed and she threw out a handful of energy with practiced ease. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" The spell was breathed softly beneath her breath. The sliver of black and white tinged energy hit its mark as Raven turned back to the newly-dusted knight. She felt the tinge of energy leave her and the new sense of calm that registered when it hit its mark. That was good. It meant that it was one threat eliminated and she was free to return to the matter at hand.

She opened her mouth to scold when a black spear shot through the gaping hole and knocked him to the ground, pinning him to the ground through the thin links of chain mail.

A faint tinge of annoyance registered as Raven glided over to stare down at the surprised face. He was lucky it had missed any vital points, for the spear was a nasty, jagged piece of work, with a faint bloodstained sheen to it. Her brow furrowed. It was an unusual choice of weaponry and the sort of thing that had her wondering just what exactly was going on here. In the back of her mind was a fuzzy memory of seeing a picture of a similar spear and reading the description that accompanied it. That did not settle well with her at all. Whatever had happened to this strange knight was still in the process of happening.

And she did not want to be a part of something that had just destroyed a particularly favorite section in the junior reading archives of the Raven's Library.

"Knight?" She reached towards the spear.

"Don't touch it!" He choked out, squirming underneath with a grimace. She perked a brow in question. "Black…magic…" He gasped out, closing his eyes as if in pain.

Raven sighed, a quiet, matter-of-fact sound that said more than she could have chosen to say. "Can't hurt me." She reached for it again, already modifying her signature spell inside her head. "Amarenth Malethon Zaros!" There was a flare of black and red tinged energy that sprang up around her hands, coating them so she could pull the offending weapon free. It was heavy in her hands, proof of the one who had thrown it—the extra weight was no doubt a personal preference.

The knight sucked in a huge gulp of air, staring up at her with undisguised admiration. "Thanks!" He felt the chain links where the spear had been just moments before. There was relief spread plainly across his features as he realized that he was virtually unharmed.

"Don't thank me." Raven wrinkled her nose at the spear. "You do realize you have just crashed into the Raven Library, yes?"

"Hmm?"

"Library." She repeated. "The Library of the Ravens." She gestured with her hands towards the mess of books, brick and dust. "And you've brought your troubles with you. I have no need for extra work and more headaches."

"I'm terribly sorry." The knight ducked his spiky head of hair in apology. "Didn't mean to."

Raven drew her hood up over her head with one hand and offered the spear with the others. "Do not apologize until you have gone out there and gotten rid of it." Her lavender eyes drilled purposefully into him. "And when you are finished, you had best be back here and fixing this wall!"

The knight blinked, speechless.

She resisted the urge to sigh again. "The wall, knight, the wall. The hole. There is a hole in the wall. It needs to be fixed." Her mouth twitched. "You broke it and you shall fix it, not to mention, some of these books were priceless and irreplaceable." She thrust the spear into one of his surprised hands, having already removed the dangerous spell. Bending down, she retrieved one torn and completely destroyed volume. "You will have to do something about this. However am I going to explain this away?"

There was a flicker of something outside. In the tiny corner in the back of her mind, Raven already knew what it was. She tucked the ruined book in the folds of her cloak drawing back in a hover just a few feet away. She'd given him enough hints already, it was time to see if there were brains beneath the thick head of black hair. That lovely thick, spiky head of black hair. She shook the thought from her head.

Her answer came much sooner than she had expected.

She felt the surge of energy before she saw the result. The creature whose shadow she'd attacked—had brought some friends along for the fun. They reacted as violently as they looked. Large, hunched creatures of burgundy and black with curved, glistening fangs and a four-fingered claws and feet. They seemed starved in their appearance, with bony joints and visible ribs, old scars piled one over the other as they approached, the detail only adding to their grotesque features. A reeking stench rolled off them in waves and Raven swallowed the bile forming in the back of her throat.

She did not like that development at all. She hadn't put much effort into figuring out what she'd intended to chase off, simply because she had thrown a basic protection spell to guard the library and remove any negative influences and presences. It had not been intended as an offensive spell. She had felt the air loosen around her, knowing that it had been removed, but not sensing any other creatures.

That had been strange.

She should've been able to sense them.

To her surprise, the young knight was suddenly standing in front of her, the spear held expertly in his two gauntleted hands. "I think you'd better stand back, Miss." He tightened his grip on his left hand, just a fraction of an inch and just a little bit of a twist.

It was the kind of detail that no one would really notice. No one really, that is, except Raven. She knew that grip. She knew that stance. She knew exactly what was going to happen and so she moved back even a few more pages further from the rubble. Reading books was most certainly a habit that paid off sevenfold in the future.

"Take it out onto the lawn." She muttered, frowning. "I will not have you fighting in the library."

He didn't answer.

But when the first creature made a move forward, he launched himself outward with a fearsome yell. The spear was brought down on the head of the closest creature with a resounding crack. Almost as if he were dancing, the young knight spun, twirled and struck with the once cursed spear. His movements were quick, fluid and expert in their execution. He knew where to strike and exactly with how much force. It was a strangely one-sided fight.

Within minutes, three of the five creatures were piled on a makeshift heap to his left and he tightened his grip on the spear once more, a cocky grin on his sweat-streaked face as if beckoning the remaining creatures to come closer. They did.

Circling him as a pair and closing in with practiced coordination.

Raven turned her attention to the ruined book she'd snatched from the floor. That had been a particularly rare volume. She turned it over in her hands and began to feel with her powers to see whether it was repairable or not. It was a pain to summon a book from scratch, repairing it was much easier. She blew out a breath of frustrated air, mildly amused when it merely stirred her unruly strands of short hair and did nothing for the book's dusty cover.

Ghosting her hands over the busted and shredded cover, she felt along the damage line and began to whisper the familiar words in her mind just beneath her breath. Feeling the faint tendrils of the book reviving beneath her fingertips, she did not bother to hid the tiny smile that crept onto her face. She was more than grateful to know that the damage was not permanent. Granted, it would take a significant amount of time and precious magical energy to repair each individual volume—it would be worth it simply on the grounds of preserving precious knowledge for later generations.

She felt the pull before it happened and when it did, time itself seemed to slow down as she caught up with the reality of what was happening around her. One of the creatures had veered away from the knight with deadly intent towards her. The knight reacted with a vicious slash towards the remaining creature, felling it with a single stroke and turning to stop the other one with a frantic expression on his face.

The creature was faster.

She heard his yell somewhere in the very farthest corner of her mind and knew that whatever he had said, there was no possible way she could form a coherent reply. Not in the strange, silent, slowed motion version of the reality playing out before her. There simply was not time to react.

Raven found herself staring straight up into the fanged face as the sudden stench of rot and decay became entirely overwhelming.

For the second time that day, Raven wondered if she really was dreaming after all.

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><p><strong>~*~*~*Thanks for reading!~*~*~<strong>


	3. Chapter 3 : Aftermath

**A/N: Chapter three is done! Yayness. It took some time to get this written, because I've been working on it in snippets throughout the week instead of churning it all out today. LOL. It's officially dead week in my world right now. Anyway, I have a new poll up on my profile right now-vote for which Titan you'd like to see appear in this fic first. Alright, now here's a cookie. Hold on to it until you reach the end, okay? I hope you all enjoy the read. Thank you for the wonderful comments and faves. I appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: Cookies!**

**Raven: *sigh* Azarath-**

**Me: That is entirely unfair, you never take me up on-**

**Raven: -Metrion-**

**Me: I don't own any Teen Titans characters and such, save for this plot which is entirely mine. ^_^  
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><p>Her reaction was more reflex than thought, Raven later reasoned, because she did not even hesitate to throw up a protective spell barrier—and then completely destroy the creature with an accurate blast of black and white-tinged energy fire. The book in her hand was simultaneously repaired with the backlash of powerful magical energy and she was pleased to note that the feeling was rather refreshing. She had been worried about the rare spells scribed on the thin pages, but having read it already, her mind was more than willing to fill in the gaps to complete the necessary incantations for defense and offense.<p>

The creature shrieked and screamed as the flames covered every inch of its wretched body. The purple-haired librarian merely readjusted her glasses, holding the energy taut between them until she knew the charred remains were exactly that—charred remains. It was only when she had torn her eyes away from the disgusting black mess that she realized the knight was watching her with grim eyes from a few feet away.

He was heaving soft breaths and clutching his side—the same side that the spear had almost hit just minutes earlier. The grimace was returning to his features and he had gone rather pale in the space of the few seconds between them.

She stared at him, eyebrows raised, expectant, but he did not answer her unspoken question.

Instead, his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed dramatically on the debris-strewn floor in a heap of blood of and clinking armor.

_Armor._

_Blood._

Raven furiously backtracked. She had missed that—or had she?

Skirting the smoldering mess, she started forward and stopped, throwing another handful of energy over her shoulder to clean it up. It was always best to deal with things like that immediately, that way they would not present a bigger problem in the future—or a headache at a later, unnecessary time. Her thoughts redirected and she clambered over the rubble to get a look at the fallen knight.

With some effort, she managed to turn him over and arrange his limbs in a more natural position on the floor so she could inspect the damage. There was a soft hiss that left her lips as she realized the wound was not from the current fight but possibly from an earlier encounter. From the angle and seeming force of the blow, she knew a vital strike when she saw one. He had been in the midst of a fight where the error had been costly. It was the kind of error that could cost a knight their life, if they were not careful. He had survived.

He had also been fighting with such a serious injury—and had risked his life again, when he thought she was in danger. Risked his life for the sake of a stranger.

Raven chewed on her lower lip for a moment, thinking more than she'd had to in the past week. With some effort, she closed her eyes and whispered the usual words. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos." The chant was distinctly soothing to her and directly helpful to him. It was a very tentative healing trance, because she could not tell if his body would react to her unusual brand of magic and because she knew there would be no help in repairing the hole in the wall until he was awake.

That meant she would need her energy for a temporary fix—and one that was strong enough to hold up in the event that the horrid creatures decided to return for a second round. Dusting off her hands, she waggled her fingers towards the hole, with a small noise of satisfaction when the rubble picked itself up off the floor and snapped back to their original places on the wall. The books began to replace themselves on the newly repaired shelves and within a handful of minutes, there was absolutely nothing to show that there had once been a hole in the wall.

She liked that.

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><p>The guest room was rather small. It was not meant to be a room at all, so Raven mentally counted the knight as lucky as she rearranged the tiny private reading room to hold a small bed and a nightstand. There was not any real reason for her to do so, except for the faint tug of energy that had finally settled into a corner of her head, whispering encouragements towards helping the young knight. Something connected him to somewhere in a way that made her very spirit want to leap to his aid. A kind of thing that sent ribbons of annoyance and confusion spiraling through her in a way that meant she would have to spend a significant amount of time in morning meditations to retain her usual calm state of mind. Her deeper powers were waking from their slumber, affected enough to project their influence upon her consciousness. Raven pushed that aside, continuing with her preparations, she needed to focus here and now—on the knight.<p>

It didn't take any magic to remove chain mail, but Raven used a bit anyway. Undressing a wounded knight was not one of her everyday occurrences and she did not want to aggravate the wound any more than necessary. From her own reasoning, he was mixed up in enough trouble and unfamiliar magic, that she figured using some of her own would be a simple precaution, just in case.

Her suspicions were proven true when she peeled away blood-soaked fabric from the gash in his side. It was the same kind of curse that had been on the jagged black spear. No wonder he hadn't wanted her to touch it. Experience had taught him otherwise, she mused. The very sight of it had sent her mind puzzling through things and she settled on the fact that it had been a rather cruel twist to whatever battle he had been in. Bustling about the room, she filled a bowl with warm water and a touch of antiseptic, finding a soft cloth and cotton bandages from a wicker basket, she returned to the bedside to begin her ministrations.

It was good that he was asleep.

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><p>By the time Raven had washed and bandaged the wound, she was aware of the nighttime chimes of the library clock ringing out in the hollow silence that she often found comforting. Packing up the medical supplies, she replaced them in the basket and tucked it under the bed for easier retrieval later, if needed. Leaving the guest room, she flew upwards into the heart of the tower's ceiling to her bedroom and the special stack of books she kept there.<p>

It did not take very long to find the one that she wanted and within seconds, she was floating downwards to the ground floor, already absorbed within its pages. She found the picture she was looking for and the accompanying passage when she walked into the guest room. Her knight-patient was still sleeping, though marginally more comfortably than before. She stood over him, reading for a while until she found the spell she was looking for.

Sucking in a deep breath, she cleared her throat and began the chant, her left hand placed over the cotton gauze pad, her right hand holding the book level so she could read. In a voice low and soft, almost reminiscent of the library clock chimes themselves, the purple-haired librarian began to chant the magical words to recant the full spell plaguing the strange knight.

"Amarenth Malethon Zaros. From whence thou has come, I recant thee. Amarenth Malethon Zaros, from the pit of the earth to the arch of the sky, I care not where, remove thyself at my behest, Amarenth Malethon Zaros. The pain you have caused, the destruction unwanted brought, I recant thee, remove thee and seal thee with my signature." A powerful flare of black and white-tinged energy surged out of her left hand in a rich, swirling spiral. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!"

She shut the book with an audible snap, bending over to examine her handiwork. Her violet irises flared with light and the pupils changed from round orbs, to cat-like ovals, as her secondary vision examined the wound from a magical perspective. The orbs flickered back to their usual round state as she drew to her full height, apparently satisfied with what she had seen. She was almost to the door when she realized a few things, pausing, she hurriedly scribbled a few words in basic on the length of scrap paper tucked between two books. She found a bit of glue in the old writing case on the floor and used that to stick her notes where they would be helpful.

Satisfied, she licked one finger and pinched the tip of the candle on the nightstand. He would sleep for quite some time, she knew that from experience—and while he was sleeping, she would take the time to rest as well. Whatever would happen, would happen. She would deal with it by morning.

As she settled into bed, running her fingers through the shoulder-length crop of hair, she twisted the ends into a braid, tying it with a silken black ribbon. A yawn escaped and she burrowed down under the covers. Tomorrow promised to be full of excitement if today had been any indication. A good night's sleep would go a long way in making sure that she was able to handle everything that came her way.

Raven was so tired that she didn't even notice the faint cerulean glow of a slender book beneath the sheaf of papers on her cluttered desk. She didn't even feel the soft tug of energy as she faded into the usual dreams of the night.

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><p><strong>Now, everyone who thought Robin was going to save Raven, please turn around and give her your cookie. She's trading them for a special blend of tea and wants you to know that you're forgetting that she is entirely capable of taking care of herself. Oh, and she also says if you ate it—that you owe her one. Sorry.<strong>

**:P Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4 : The Morning After

**A/N: Chapter four is done! (and school's out!) It took a little longer than I expected and it actually turned out a bit longer than I thought it would too. I'm hoping no one minds. LOL. I tend to write long and flowy when I get into the story. There's not a lot of dialogue in this piece, but the next chapter will have some. This is kind of a bit of plot-setup here, so please bear with it as I get a few things in place, the action will come soon-promise! Also, currently the poll is showing Cyborg as the character to show up first, so he'll make an appearance fairly soon. I hope you all enjoy the read. Thank you for the wonderful comments and faves. I appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: SUMMER!  
><strong>

**Raven: Again? Azarath-**

**Me: Summer is AWEsome!  
><strong>

**Raven: -Metrion-**

**Me: *laughs* I don't own any Teen Titans characters, except for this plot which is entirely mine. ^_^**

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><p>The knight woke to the feeling of something on his forehead. He tried to move, finding his limbs to be strangely stiff and sore. The soreness he had expected, the stiffness not as much. The reason for it was soon clear as he opened his eyes and found himself staring at a strange, whiteness. It took a longer moment for him to realize that there was a piece of paper stuck to his forehead and he was staring up at the bottom half of it.<p>

With some effort, he maneuvered one hand around to snatch the paper off and read the note printed. In clean, cursive script, the note explained that there would be food brought at noon and that he was not to go poking around the library without permission. It instructed him to read all the notes, eat and then go back to sleep. A puzzled glance around the room revealed a handful of white squares of paper tacked to various spots on the wall, each bearing the same cursive script.

The knight stared at the strange room for longer than he could stand and then his arm fell back to the bed with a thump. He turned his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. Breathing was about the same, taking the usual draw of energy for each life giving reflex of air—and mostly painless. That was good. It meant that the injuries from before were healing quite nicely and the new ones would no doubt follow the same way. There was no real reason to get up at the moment and nothing that kept him from staying exactly where he was. The weariness hung over him for precious, silent moments and then sleep came quickly.

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><p>Raven felt him stir, the thin thread of his life force tugging faintly in her hand. She paused, halfway out of bed and halfway with the metal knitting needles in her hand. She'd just started casting the stitches because the motions made her relax, but now the faint nudge of unease resurfaced as she realized the stranger was alive and well. She had wakened at the usual time, going about the daily chores of the library and then seeing about the procurement of proper materials to fix the broken wall. Her magic was strong and the patch would definitely hold for some time, but properly repairing it would keep a headache from appearing later and Raven much more preferred to do that then to put it off 'til another time.<p>

Curling her fingers 'round the needles, she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. She'd tied the silken threads tightly to the nubbed ends and now, blindly threw them towards the empty bedroom wall. They landed solidly with a sharp thunk in the thick wooden paneling, the threads quivering as her eyes opened. The frown lurking about her face deepened as she slid fully out of the bed and padded across the thick carpet rug to examine the needles and the threads positioning.

"I should have used more." She mused, stroking the two twined strands of corded silk. There was not much that she could read from this simple casting, but it did spike her curiosity as to the stranger sleeping in the makeshift guest quarters. It meant that he was going to ask her for a favor. Her jaw slowly cranked into a rather locked position as she smoothed out the twisted strands and wound them around the needles, tucking them into the ceramic vase-like holder on the edge of her cluttered desk.

A slight grimace came to the surface as she surveyed the overflowing mound of papers, notes, books, half-written and half-repaired manuscripts. It was more like a miniature workshop than an actual desk, with the magical repair tools littering the floor and windowsill around the desk. Raven ran a hand through her messy morning hair and stifled a yawn as she hunted for the book she remembered reading the night before. Usually, she tended to keep all her current reads in a giant stack beside her bed, but she had not seen the familiar cover there and so now searched for it in other sections of the bedroom.

Something hot touched her fingers and she jerked back with a muffled cry, eyes narrowing as she drew on her magical vision to view the entire desk. Warm fingers unconsciously traveled upwards until she tucked the fingers in her mouth, soothing them with the soft sucking motion of her tongue. Her lips pressed tightly together around the fingers as she squinted, her vision adjusting to a calculated, magnified view in which she could clearly see the object. Buried under a particularly thick sheaf of papers, it was a slender, hardcover book, bound with the same kind of silken cord that she used for knitting, the cover a strange purple-black sheen, more black than purple, with a jagged red winged creature emblazoned across the front.

She did not really want to deal with that, so she stood there.

Raven stared at it until the imprint seemed to be permanently burned into her mind and then her head fell forward, her chin resting on her chest as her mind whirled away to put the puzzle pieces together. It had been years since she had seen the book glow—at least—to glow that brightly and that fiercely, that even touching it had resulted in such a physical reaction. Drawing her hand back from her mouth, she noted that there was no trace of the burn, minutely grateful for her natural healing powers.

Turning back to the room, she dressed quickly and splashed a bit of cool water on her face, attempting to comb the tangles of her hair and settling for pinning up the entire mass at the nape of her neck, a sight that would be conveniently concealed with the trademark hood of her everlasting cloak. Once dressed and feeling somewhat more prepared to handle the matter, she approached the desk once more, weary as she pawed the papers aside to reveal the book.

It was glowing in the brightest shade of the most vibrant blue she could ever recall seeing anywhere near it. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, reaching for it. "Azarath…Metrion…Zinthos."

This time, the book did not burn her.

Her eyes popped open when she held the thin volume in her hand and the glow dimmed to a steady tremble as she ran her fingers along the edge and then the binding. She did not want to open it. She did not want to read it. But it was precisely because she did not want to, that she knew she had to.

Against her better judgment, Raven opened the back first, her fingers fumbling to hold it open at the last page. The words inscribed on the back made her clench her teeth, but she ignored them, flipping more quickly through the pages until she reached the patch of empty, cream-colored paper somewhere about a third of the way through the book. Her eyes skimmed the pages before that, reading the words written there and quickly storing it away for later perusal.

In a handful of tense moments, she finished.

Snapping the book shut, she took the few steps to the bed and shoved it under her pillow. It would be best dealt with later, for now, it was a warning that she would take at face value if necessary. Straightening her cloak and taking her glasses from the nightstand, she checked her pocketwatch and stifled a sigh. She had promised the strange knight a noontime meal and it was already fairly close to the appointed hour.

She would have to hurry.

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><p>Lunch turned out to be a rather simple stew and a bowl of sweet, cut fruit sprinkled with sugar water. There was no bread or cheese, but there was plenty of strong tea and ale of which Raven brought in large pitchers, directing the entire tray of dishes, utensils and napkins along the hallway with her mind, keeping a careful grip on the actual beside tray she carried in hand. She tapped softly on the door and then gently nudged it open with a touch of her mind and a careful kick of her foot.<p>

It swung open soundlessly and showed the strange knight fast asleep, his half-snores filling the tiny room, his body slack, completely at ease in the strange surroundings. Her notes were still plastered around the room, but the one on his face had been removed, indicating that he had woken and promptly returned to sleep after the initial moments of lucidity. That was a bit of a relief, because the young librarian did not care to be throwing her powers about in front of him. It was certainly nothing to be ashamed of, but definitely something that was best used to advantage based on the amount of knowledge her adversaries possessed of her true nature. Setting the tray down on the nightstand, she drew over the empty desk and directed the miscellaneous items to rest atop the clear surface.

Opening the soup carrier, she spooned out a generous helping of stew into a thick bowl, stabbing it with a spoon to the side and a sprinkle of fresh green herbs. The sounds of her preparations were careful and precise, but did not so much as budge the knight from his deep slumber. Raven surveyed him with a look somewhere between interest and mild annoyance. "After all the trouble I went through-" She muttered, glancing at the stew. Her cooking was not fancy, but it was acceptable and nutritionally sound on most points. It took considerable effort and concentration to create a dish that was enjoyable by human standards and she counted it as a useful, partially developed skill. She had learned how to improve it over the years and for a moment, she wondered, briefly, it the young knight had ever eaten anything in her corner of the world before.

That was an amusing thought for later investigation.

A closer examination of the knight showed that he was not sleeping as deeply as she had first thought. The very fact that his body seemed to be completely relaxed was almost a warning in itself as she realized his snores were rather rhythmical—as if he was conscious of the sound and keeping it fixed to a cycle that his subconscious could manipulate. She frowned, moving to stand at the foot of the bed to better analyze him.

As if sensing her penetrating gaze, he shifted, the snoring faded away, his hands clawing lazily at the sheets. Raven's eyebrows danced upwards at that and she moved back to the side of the bed and held her hand directly above his face, about to snap her fingers when his eyes flew open and one bandaged hand grabbed her wrist in a death-grip. For a moment, a tense silence hung in the room as the haze seemed to fade from his face and after a moment, a faint smile quirked to life.

"Thank you for the wake-up note. I'm sorry to be a bother."

"Lunch." Raven said, stiffly, making no move to reclaim her wrist.

He blinked up at her for a moment and then his gaze shifted to his hand squeezing her wrist and he dropped it at once. "Ah, sorry. Reflex." With a wince, he sat up, scooting back to rest his back against the headboard. "It seems I am in your debt." He smiled, warmly.

"Yes, so it would seem." Raven said, noncommittally as she placed the hot bowl of stew on a thick cloth napkin, carefully wrapping it around the dish before handing it over. "And you exploded a section of the library wall, it would seem that you owe me for that as well."

He winced again. "Right. I am sorry. Thank you." He accepted the dish with grateful hands, breathing in the delicious aroma. "It smells really good. Thank you very much."

"You seem to say thank you and sorry more than anything." Lavender eyes narrowed pointedly at his healing face. "Try eating it before you compliment it."

The smile on his face seemed to grow a tiny bit more as he dutifully maneuvered his bandaged hand to bring the spoon to his mouth and the movements were awkward enough that the purple-haired librarian reached over and snatched it out of his hand. He barely had time to open his mouth before the spoon was thrust in. A few mouthfuls later, he managed to get a word out before the next spoonful was presented. "It's good."

Her eyebrow twitched.

He opened his mouth. She stuck the spoon in again.

They continued in this way until the bowl was empty and then she stabbed several chunks of fruit with a long metal skewer, handing it over, apparently believing it was easy enough for him to handle it on his own.

"Thank you." He ventured, again, accepting the colorful fruit skewer. "It really was good."

Raven silently threaded another serving of fruit chunks into a spare skewer. She nibbled on a slice of sweet pinkness and almost smiled as the cool softness slipped down her throat. It was good. She had eaten her stew while preparing his tray and had postponed her dessert for the sake of having something to do with her hands so there would not be any empty silences in the room.

The same kind of empty silence that was now filling the air as he chomped down on a bright chunk of fruit with great relish.

"By the way, I'm Robin, thanks for your help…?"

She stuffed her mouth to delay the answer by a few more seconds. The pages in the black boot were replaying in her mind along with the words written on them.

_His name will be of no consequence for whatever it is, your firsts shall match. _

_He will ask you for a favor you are unwilling to grant. _

_He will beg you to reconsider. _

_Whatever you choose shall bring you the greatest distress or the richest of rest. _

_Beware of that which you believe you are capable of controlling, for you will lose yourself for his sake, should you forsake the library._

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><p><strong>Ah, the mystery! ROFL. Who wants to guess what that book was all about? ^_^ ~*~*~*~Thank you for reading!~*~*~*~<strong>


	5. Chapter 5 : Getting To Know Each Other

Raven deliberately polished off the entire fruit skewer. There probably was not any harm in speaking her name aloud, but she did not think it would be a problem to hold onto it for a few minutes longer as he was only staring at her with mild curiosity and not much else. "Do you know where you are, Mr. Robin?"

"Just Robin." He grinned. "I think so. You said something about the Raven's library, right? I didn't think I'd end up here like this—that's some kinda luck."

"Luck?" Both eyebrows danced upwards. "You count destroying a wall of this sacred library, an entire section of irreplaceable books, bringing along a handful of dastardly goblins for the ride and sitting in a room that was not meant for this-" She gestured towards the bed and desk. "-lucky? You would call that lucky?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes things happen. I didn't think it'd be this easy to find this place." He smiled, the expression somehow suiting him. "I've been traveling for quite some time.I wanted to find the library and meet the head librarian." He brightened. "You don't happen to know who that is, would you? I mean, assuming your work here and-"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you want to meet the head librarian?"

The smile faded and his head dropped just a bit. "That would be a bit personal, considering that I don't even know your name yet and you know mine, not to mention you know quite a bit about me, you've seen me fight and I would say that puts me at a disadvantage."

"Then why do you keep talking?"

The smile returned. "Because I don't think you're dangerous."

Raven shot to her feet, maintaining the careful mask of composure. "Isn't that a bit rash to decide so suddenly?"

He shook his head, wincing at the movements. "No. You went to all the trouble to patch me up and you even…fed me. I don't think you're dangerous." He shrugged. "Sorry. So, can I see them?"

"Them?"

"The head librarian, or the people who run this library."

"It is extremely difficult to gain an audience with the head librarian." Raven reached for another fruit skewer, stabbing the chunks of fruit before finally holding up the completed stick and biting into the sweetness. "Why would you need to see them?"

The smile remained, but this time, it didn't touch his eyes. "I'll ask them when I see them."

"And if they do not care to grant you an audience?"

"Then I will wait until they can." He turned away, staring at the wall. "It seems I've been causing you a bit of inconvenience. I'm sorry about that."

"Apologize after you have fixed the problem." She gave an unladylike snort. "Your armor does not bear a crest, from where do you hail, Sir Knight Robin?"

He chuckled. "Just Robin…I don't have the titles to really accompany the occupation at the moment, so there's no need to waste formalities on me."

"You do not wear the protection from the Hawkeye Armory without a title." Raven slowly sat down, chomping on a large chunk of fruit. "Care for another?"

The smile faded, his blue eyes narrowing almost instantly. "I see." The penetrating gaze flickered to the fruit bowls and then back to his lap before circling up to her face again. "I would, thanks."

"Sponsored, adopted or abandoned?" Raven finished her skewer, beginning to thread a new one for the boy.

"Neither." Robin accepted the skewer. "Rescue project."

"By your sponsor?"

"Village, actually."

"Must be an honorable name."

"It is, actually."

Violet eyes locked onto sapphire orbs. "You have no weapon."

"I had a spear."

"It was not yours. Try again?"

A rueful smile finally broke through and he held up his hands, waving the skewer as if it were a little flag. "Alright, alright, fair lady." He smothered a laugh. "My name is Robin Allensworth of Maeleon. My sponsor is Sir Bruce Wayne of Gothame, I bear the altered crest of his family insignia and have recently recanted it in favor of my recent wanderings."

"And the Sir Wayne, allowed it?" Skinny eyebrows arched in skepticism.

"He is a most lenient knight-master." Robin's eyes laughed at her, daring her to question further. "I travel with his blessing."

As if acknowledging the challenge, the lavender-tinted gaze shifted to something more of a glare. "And Maeleon, the Maeleon of central incense traders and spice merchants? That Maeleon?"

"Yes."

"You have traveled quite far."

"Thank you."

"I was not complimenting you."

"Ah, of course."

"You are traveling alone?"

"Aye."

"You know how to fight with a spear."

"I am a knight."

"And that is not your primary weapon."

"It is not."

Raven's hands slowly balled into fists. This conversation was not bringing her any closer to the answers for the real questions she had for the troublesome knight. In fact, it was beginning to give her a headache. She rose from the chair, a little slower this time, turning to face him in all seriousness. "Sir Knight Robin." There was a faint edge to her voice. "My name is Raven, I am the head librarian and the sole caretaker of this archive. It would be a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, thought I am afraid you are only here on business?"

The change in air and manner left the knight speechless for all of a single minute, before he struggled to sit up as straight as he could and placing one hand over his heart, bowed in a modified version of the formal respect due to her voiced rank. "It is an honor and a pleasure to meet your esteemed presence, your grace."

Her mouth twitched, faintly. She would give him marks for effort, at least. "You may address me as Lady Raven." She began to gather up the nearly empty lunch tray and the remainders of the fruit skewer treat. "And how may I be of assistance, Sir Knight?" His earnest gaze faltered for a moment and she watched him out of the corner of her eyes as he seemed to wrestle with something inside himself before finally lifting his head to answer.

"I'd like to see my book, please."

Raven felt her body instinctively still, more at the phrase than the informal request. She began to move her hands in unhurried motions, gathering the bowl, cup, plate and utensil with easy fluidity. "I see, so you have traveled all this way for this?"

"N-no." His hands clenched, fisting in the bedsheets. "I'm here to defeat Slade." His blue eyes snapped, seeming to bleed with a bright, vivid blueness. "I'm here to formally accept the hero's quest and I make my purpose to defeat Slade."

There was a quiet, solemn sigh as if she'd head those words too many times before. "I see." Her voice was flat, bored. "That is truly a waste." Gathering the tray in her hands, she turned towards the door. "And that is all?"

"He plagues the people of Maeleon, is nothing more than a pest in this realm's kingdom and he…he owes me." The clenched hands shook, ever so slightly. "Please, Lady Raven. I must defeat Slade. I ask that-"

The tray in her hands melted away to nothingness and when the cloaked figure turned to look at him once more, there was an incomprehensible sadness played through her lavender eyes, something akin to sorrow, almost pitying. "And should I grant you this…petition, you understand what you are asking? There is a price that must be paid for such services."

"I'll pay it!" He struggled in the sheets, forcing himself to slide off the bed and stand, a feat that he managed, albeit a tad shakily. "Whatever the price is, I'll pay it."

"It is not that kind of price, knight." A new expression filtered over her pale-grey features. "The price I will require of you is only that which you hold dearest and it will be extracted regardless of whether you accomplish your intended goal or not. Knowing this now, does your resolve remain the same?"

"Yes." His voice was steady, even if his body trembled from the recent exertion of standing upright. "I have no regrets for this."

"Do not speak ill so early in your years." She murmured, softly. "What you say now may return to haunt you in later days." She heaved a sigh, her shoulders slumped. "Do you truly understand?"

"I would give anything to defeat Slade." There was new, hardened edge to the knight's voice, the hand gripping the nightstand turned white at the knuckles. "Anything."

"So you have said." She reached for the door, pausing mid-way. "Do not trouble yourself just yet, rest. Be ready when I return." The door slid shut behind her and the blue-eyed knight stared.

Eventually, he sat back on the bed and his head bowed, falling to his chest. Silence pooled around him.

In her bedroom, Raven retrieved the earlier set of needles and twined silk thread from a wicker basket beneath her bed. She drew out various strands of different colors and thickness, twining them carefully about the needles with simple knots. Standing up, facing the bed, her back to the empty wall, she fingered the finished result. A bright strand of pink, one of purple, one of a lovely, thick sky-blue and a curling strand of green, with one last cord of scarlet red.

Gripping the two needles tightly in one hand, she closed her eyes and took a slow breath inward. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" With a powerful flick of her wrist, she threw the two needles over her left shoulder, the colorful strands streaming out behind them. The needles landed with a solid thwack in the wooden paneling. Raven turned on her heel, covering the space from the bed to the wall in a few quick steps.

She stared at the image presented, feeling a slight tightness in her chest.

Three strands had been tied to one and two to the other, yet, in the wide space between them, the five strands had managed to twist and tangle into a large knot, hanging suspended between the two needles.

The tightness in her chest heaved slightly as Raven reverently ran her fingers over the magicked strands. She could feel the strong threads of loyalty lying in wait within them. That was good, it meant that perhaps the strange Knight Robin might fare a better fate than the others who had come to see her in the past few years. Other young men, full of life, brimming with potential and itching to throw it away for the sake of a villain that could not be defeated.

Raven sighed, tugging the needles free and sliding off the tangled threads to add to her casting basket. At least, she knew that she would be able to send the young knight on his way fairly soon. There were preparations to be made, but judging from the colorful strands, the young librarian knew that it would not take long. She mentally counted out the list of necessary companions and items.

He would need a weapons bearer, a reliable mode of transportation, a traveling companion and a being of magical heritage.

Unclasping her cloak from around her neck, she tossed it lightly to the foot of the bed, before sinking down on the comfortable covers, staring up at the ceiling and stretching slowly to work the kinks out of her neck and back. The weapons bearer would be the easiest one to find first, she mused, thinking of the thick sky-blue strand of silken cord. The thickness and nature of the silken strands gave hints to the person's personality and potential, the weight or appearance giving credence to whether they would be loyal companions or not.

The empath felt her mind wandering over possible candidates as she stared up at the stone-patterned, domed ceiling. The threads were all representative of people and things she knew, the blue strand of such thickness meant it was someone she trusted—someone she knew very well.

One hand fisted in the cool sheets beside her.

Bother that knight.

Just his arrival was already twisting her life in circles.


	6. Chapter 6 : Leaving the Library

**A/N: I've been waiting for some inspiration before deciding on where I want this fic to go. Sorry for the long wait. This is a short chapter, because I'd rather post it than leave you all wondering whether I'll ever get around to continuing. ^_^ Enjoy! **

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><p>Robin lay on the bed, unknowing of time's passage until his stomach rumbled once more. He was able to easily ignore it, his mind too busy working to dwell on such things as food and physical comforts. He was replaying the conversation that had taken place between him and the violet-haired beauty. He was replaying the thing he could not yet understand.<p>

There was something almost haunting about her last moments in the room before she'd excused herself. Something that was now beginning to bother him.

He couldn't put his hand on it at all.

* * *

><p>Raven roused herself from a much-needed nap and then went through the motions of preparing for a town trip. On the rare occasions when she did leave the sacred library, there were a few preparations that were necessary. She changed from her day outfit into a pair of tough leggings and a shortened armor-plated skirt. A sleeved shirt and a thin armor plated vest completed her outward appearance. It was more for the sake of blending in that necessity she mused to herself, redoing her hair and searching for her traveling knapsack.<p>

A bag of currency was caught up from the back of her writing desk drawer and she tucked that in a leather pouch 'round her waist. Her shoes were exchanged for boots and she finally crossed to the far end of her room to retrieve a golden fighting staff fastened to the wall.

It bore an oval shaped ornamental head, with overlaid squares of colorful jewels, , the staff itself, gave way to a thick, flat bottom, with three thin bands of coppery color a few inches apart. She hefted it in her hands, testing the weight. IT was slightly off balance, but she knew that was from lack of use. A rare magical powdered medium was concealed in the hollow middle, a thing that could evaporate with time.

Raven figured now was just as good a time as any to have it taken care of. Casting one final look around the room, she gave a decisive nod and turned out into the hallway. She took the elevator to the floor where Robin remained and woke him from a light sleep. She took stock of the fact that he hadn't so much as moved an inch since she'd left.

That was an interesting thought for later perusal.

"You use a weapon, yes?" She asked, wearily.

He shifted to his feet, gingerly, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Yes. Custom ones though, not a standard blade."

"You intend to have new ones made?"

"Ah, yes. As soon as I can-"

"You will accompany me into town and make the necessary purchases for your…quest. The sooner you are on your way the better it will be for me."

Robin blinked. "O-kay." He said, slowly. "Now?"

"Now." Raven turned on her heel. "Follow me."

He did.

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><p>They walked out from the room into the hallway, a tanned, stonewall walkway, with soft, black stone floors. There was absolutely no sound from their footsteps and Raven led him down the corridor and to a large, spiraling staircase. As they neared one floor, a square platform gave room and a resting spot. Raven opened the door to reveal a darkened chute. There were handles above the square door and she caught hold of them, hoisting herself up, feet first into the chute. "Count to ten, then follow." She instructed. "I'll be waiting."<p>

Robin swallowed. He counted as instructed. He waited. He finished counting. With a wince, he caught hold of the metal handles and launched himself into the darkness where his guide had gone.

It was a slide.

A cold, smooth, stone slide.

The wind whistling past his ears was the only indicator of the tremendous speed in which he was traveling. For once in his young life, Robin didn't want to know how it was working. He just wanted to know how soft of a landing he'd get.

It seemed like hours passing in the chute before he saw the tiny speckle of light. He squinted, preparing to return to the brightness of the daylight only to find himself flying out in the air and directly above a shimmering, bubbling pool of greenness.

"Boggage." He muttered, eloquently.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" A pulsing, warmth of black and white energy enveloped him from head to toe and by the time the young knight recovered, he found himself standing next to a very bored Raven who now wore a short, hooded cape that swirled about her hips as she moved.

He couldn't help drinking in the sight of luscious long legs and well-worn boots. He knew the signs of a well-traveled individual, the chief clue being a pair of quality, well-worn boots, tended with care. He could see that in hers. She'd traveled at some time or another and it seemed as if it had agreed with her—at least, if her boots were any indication.

And then he realized they were standing outside.

Outside in broad daylight, just on the outside of the high stone wall surrounding the Raven's Library. He took in his new surroundings, quickly, the simmering green pool, the giant thickets of wicked thorns forming a protective hedge around the smooth, whit[ grey walls of the library and he decided that there was definitely more to something than others could think.

"Well? Hurry up!" Raven called after him, she was already walking forward and held out a beautifully ornamented staff in front of her, and as she held it out, the thorns retracted as if they were alive, allowing her passage through. Robin scrambled after her. He watched, walking backwards in amazement to see the thorns curling back tighter once they'd passed through.

"It's basic magic." Raven's voice cut through his awe. "Nothing to lose your head over."

He jerked back around to face the front and fell into a careful spot beside her. "The town" He began, a faint trickle of worry registering.

"Isn't the one you encountered on your way in." Raven said, simply. "In fact, you wouldn't be able to find this town without my help. Ever." The last word was added for emphasis. Raven didn't turn back as she continued on through the thorny thicket that seemed to part their prickly branches just for her. When she reached a certain point, she stared up into the sky and squinted holding up the staff. One of the dangling gems sparkled and glowed and she turned to face the opposite direction. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

The thicket of thorns parted directly to reveal a well-worn dirt path leading into a lush, vivid forest.

Robin almost smiled. "Definitely wouldn't find it without help." He murmured and trotted after her.

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><p><strong>~*~*Thanks for reading!~*~*~<strong>


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